Calling Sasha’s logic outdated was an understatement. To say she was living in the dark ages was an insult to the castles and knights. Her thinking wasn’t medieval as much as positively prehistoric. Jurassic even.
Meredith poured a coffee for her small-minded friend, and gritted her teeth. “Look, honestly, I’m prepared to move past all this,” she said.
But there would be no reconciliation. Meredith was sure of that. Trusting Sasha as a business partner had been a disaster. And now, even after the truck full of cloned dogs had turned up in the wrong state, Sasha wouldn’t take responsibility. She didn’t need an apology. All she wanted was for Sasha to stop blaming her.
Sasha surprised her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I’ve been extremely distracted for the past week. I just can’t think straight.”
“What is it?” asked Meredith. The two of them used to be able to confide in each other. It was why they’d incorporated this business together.
“Crouton II, he just isn’t the same dog as my old crouton.”
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